


I Buried A Dead Canary

by murderofdoves



Category: One Piece
Genre: Angst, Grief/Mourning, Implied Sexual Content, Implied/Referenced Underage Sex, M/M, Sibling Incest, Symbolism
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2020-11-05
Updated: 2020-11-05
Packaged: 2021-03-09 00:02:16
Rating: Mature
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,235
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/27395413
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/murderofdoves/pseuds/murderofdoves
Summary: Just once, Sabo had said. Just once, and we'll go back to being brothers. But Ace wanted more, he needed him, and longing burned through him like fire. His brother was a bird who had flown long out of his reach, and now all he has left is the memories of fall leaves, canary cries, and a young and innocent Luffy none the wiser.
Relationships: Portgas D. Ace/Sabo
Comments: 4
Kudos: 57





	I Buried A Dead Canary

**Author's Note:**

> nashjfbene i needed something on this account! so here's something Very Short that's actually written a little seriously and Not Pure Trash like 90% of everything else on this problematic-esque account will be. this is very sad, i'm sorry. also its not porn. damn dove!! do better!!(trust me i'm really bad at writing actual porn you will want to flop me over a table when u see it)
> 
> as always this is a fantasy i don't condone incest in real life blah blah blah i just get really Emotional about these two. there's something about young love where two characters are inexperienced and unknowing but the feelings are so strong that just makes me.......hnnnnn *explodes into Minecraft particle effects*

Ace often heard the canaries cries during the early morning dawn. 

It chirped a great and brilliant sound. Ace was a hard-edged and hot-tempered boy, but he could always appreciate nature.

He remembered how it served as his morning bell. He could always wake up to it, always attuned to the sound. Luffy would be sleeping, messily. Sabo’s hat covered his eyes.

He’d rather have seen his pretty face, looking back on it now.

And some nights he would stare, longing to touch his frizzy blonde hair. He wanted to know how it felt to be close to the young and wild boy he’d fell in a youthful trance with so long ago.

So one day, Luffy slept peacefully, covered in blankets met for three. And he held his hand, carried him far out into the woods where the world couldn’t find them. 

“Ace.” He wanted to be close to him, finally, touch him as he desired. “What are you doing, Ace?” Sabo asked, backing away.

He touched him. His skin felt like gold, silk, and sunshine. Ace closed the distance between the two and kissed him softly. He saw his cloudy blue eyes widen, and the canary cried its mournful tune.

“Don’t you want it, too?” the freckled boy asked of his brother. Softly, silently.

“We can’t” Sabo protested, but the look in his eyes suggested longing. “Luffy is..”

“Luffy’s asleep, Sabo. Back at the treehouse.”

Sabo hesitated, breathing softly. They both stilled, and the rustling of the leaves remained the only sound above them. 

Sabo shyly went closer to him. “Just once.” He whispered, eyes sparkling. 

Ace nodded, but something broke inside him when he heard that. A dull pain. _Just once? Once? No, again, again, again._

He let him move closer, and the kiss he pressed on his lips was blinding. It was one thing to kiss his brother but another to be the subject of his attraction and affection. He smelled exquisite, like the faraway land of pitiful richness he’d run away from.

_It was because of you. It was because I was in love with you. I ran, as far and as fast as I could._

He tried to remove any thoughts of morality from his head as he let his hand trail up Sabo’s shirt. He wouldn't forget how his young love looked below him, wide-eyed and innocent, hair strewn in all directions as he lay atop a bed of leaves.

Nobody had shown him. He’d heard people at the bar talking about it, so he knew. He wondered if Sabo knew too, having been raised with people who resorted to sensory pleasures to fill the void in their heart.

 _Let it be, Sabo. Let it be._ What came next was a blur, of contact and confusion. They were both young, fumbling, wary. He didn’t know that his back would arch so fervently, his hands grasping among the leaves as he gave him what he wanted. How he’d gasp, delirious for more, drinking it in as they learned how their bodies worked.

The canaries cry too- among the senseless pleasure, it was there. Burrowing itself into his skull, the feathers the same color of his brother and lovers flax-golden hair. 

And after they rolled and touched and learned and the sun went down, the rest become unclear and hazy. A walk back with clasped and sweaty hands, the unrest he felt when he saw Luffy there waiting, with an impatient “Where have you been, you two?”

And in the night Luffy saw it, the way Ace and Sabo had clung so tight, drinking in each other’s scent and contact like fine wine. But he was far too innocent to understand why Ace’s fingers shook, gripping onto Sabo’s shirt like he was hanging on to him for dear life. He wanted, he wanted, but Luffy did not know what, for he was far too absentminded for such things.

It was only a week later.

A week, and nothing more.

He never saw it himself.

He closed his eyes that night, Sabo absent from his side, so he reached for contact with a ghost. The longing was dragging him through his grave. Luffy’s eyes were full of unabashed concern and innocence. 

_Just for a day, and we’ll go back to being brothers._

_I don’t want that!_

_I don’t want that…_

What he saw in his sleep was the sea of their dreams. Bold, blue, and beautiful, under an expansive sky. And he saw the canary, flying above the water with courage. Yet as it flew, higher and higher, the sun lit its back until it burst into fire. And its wings became ashes, sinking deeply into the sea like a phoenix at the end of its century.

When they told him Sabo had died, he saw the Canary.

And when he saw the letter he felt as if he, too, was burning.

Luffy cried like a river, as if he had the spirit of the ocean deep inside of him. And Ace’s grief was there too, but it was more sinking, erratic and angry and pitiable, all condensing into a pointless existence in the shadow of a monster.

He left Luffy there, found their spot in the woods. It had barely changed, no different from before.

_Just once, just once._

_Again, again._

_Please._

_Please._

He fell onto the earth, hands shaking, as tears rolled down his face. He felt Sabo’s hands on his skin as if it was as clear as day. The way his hair felt under his skin, nestled up into his shoulder at night. How it felt to kiss him, how the canaries cry went to the highest pitch until it was deafening, shattering everything else that mattered.

The only thing Ace wanted was to kiss him again. Tell him he loved him, that he didn’t want him to go. Take him somewhere far away, to a country yet never seen, far away from the sickeningly selfish spirit of this land.

But never again. Never again. Just once, only once, was he able to tame him. Passing lingering from his fingers, like a ghost.

He slept there, pretending he was close to his body. They were all just bodies, all just spirits. But they had become something warm, together, something impossible to tell apart, a fragment of the same being.

It was Luffy who found him and, crying, carried him home. The numbness that he felt through his body destroyed every sensation he could possibly feel.

And the sun and moon continued to set despite his protests, his desperation to wring back time so he could never leave that field, his anger, and his bitterness.

There was only one difference, as he held the crying Luffy close as time continued to melt.

The canary that had cried every morning woke up no longer. Dead, somewhere cold in the earth where he could not see it, much like the one he had loved.

It no longer sang, no more, even in its dreams.

It had forgotten the tune, the one Ace and Sabo had made together, the quiet composition of innocence and pure love.

Ace found it, one day. The dead bird, so relaxed and peaceful in its loss. He buried it in the same field, the one where they’d written every lyric.

When he closed his eyes, he could still hear it singing.

For it never really stopped.


End file.
